


I'm the Opposite of Amnesia

by orphan_account



Series: The World Was Okay Again [3]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death(s), Past Character Death(s), Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold. But you will remember me, remember me for centuries</p><p>OR</p><p>Thomas is haunted by ghosts of friendships past</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm the Opposite of Amnesia

_Some legends are told. Some turn to dust or to gold._

It’s not real. It’s not real, it’s not real.

“Keep telling yourself that, Tom.” Teresa’s voice rang out to him from across the fire. Thomas’ face jerked upwards and he glanced around frantically to see if anybody else could hear her. Apparently, nobody could.

Go away, Thomas screamed at her from his mind. Teresa shot him a quick smile before disappearing from the spot. He looked around again, and noticed that Gally was giving him a suspicious look.

Thomas shot him a quick smile before turning away. While they had mended their bridges, he highly doubted whether the two of them would ever truly be friends. Not after all the horrible things that had happened between them.

Most of the time, Thomas didn’t even flinch when Teresa came around. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was, but he’d seen her from the moment he arrived here in Paradise, and while he knew full well that she had died, it had seemed natural. He figured it was something to do with their telepathic abilities during the WICKED years. Maybe there was a part of her in his brain, part he wouldn’t be able to get away from. So seeing in from the corner of his eyes wasn’t something he dwelled on too much.

It was when she started talking to him that he had a problem… but even then it just felt fine. Thomas often wondered if he was losing his mind, but if this was what insanity was… then it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

Thomas had just gotten into a heated argument with Gally and stormed back to his sleeping area when he heard the painfully familiar voice calling out to him.

“You shouldn’t talk to him like that. He’s been through a lot, just like you.”  

Thomas turned and stared at Chuck for a while. He tried to avoid it, but his eyes when down to the bloody spot on his shirt. The spot where Gally’s knife had landed, where his body had shut down and died. _Died._ Chuck was dead- Teresa was dead- they shouldn’t be able to talk to him. Not anymore.

“It’ll all make sense soon, shank.” Chuck smiled at him, his chubby, flushed face seeming all too mysterious. “Don’t worry.”

Thomas worried. Thomas worried a lot.

They all came to him. Ben was the best, just appearing occasionally, usually in moments of stress. He never said anything, never reached out to touch him, he was just there. For somebody that had once attempted to kill Thomas, he was a surprisingly calming presence.

Alby, at least, was tolerable. He was around when Thomas needed guidance, when he was unsure of what to do. He spoke calmly and clearly, always knowing exactly what to do or what to say. He never touched Thomas either, using only his voice to evoke calm.

Chuck was touchy, and always there. From the moment Thomas woke up to the moment he fell asleep at night, Chuck was by his side. Most of the time, at least, he didn’t talk. Laughed a lot though, at nearly everything that happened no matter whether it was actually funny or not. Thomas found his laughter slightly contagious, and everybody found it quite odd when the boy would start randomly laughing.

Teresa was a completely different story. She didn’t come around often, though slightly more than Ben, and was a whirl wind of negativity. She always had something sarcastic to say, somebody to make fun of. She touched him a lot too, and every time she did it just a coldness washed over him. Whenever Teresa was around, Thomas avoided everybody who wasn’t Minho. Mostly because Minho wouldn’t let him be alone.

Little did Minho know that Thomas was never alone. The lost made sure of that.

_Just one mistake is all it will take_

Thomas should have seen it coming. He should have seen it coming and honestly? He was pissed that he didn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to him, that this could get so much worse.

The day Thomas saw Newt was the day he gave up any hope of being sane.

He’d injured himself, for the first time since he’d entered Paradise and he figured that triggered Newt in his mind. He’d appeared within seconds of the wood falling upon Thomas’ head with his cliché Newt look, anger and concern all mixed up into one.

Newt’s presence was stronger than the others, too. Even Chuck disappeared when Newt came around, as though he repelled them. He was comfortable mixture of what everybody else had been; he was quiet when it was time to be, knew exactly what to say, laughed beautifully at all the right moments and knew exactly when to mock the events going on around them.

Thomas felt the coldness that had been in his heart since his death was becoming warmer every time Newt arrived.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas asked him one day while they were together up on the hill. They sat close together, so their arms and legs were touching. Unlike when Chuck or Teresa touched him, it wasn’t cold or uncomfortable. In fact, Thomas felt more at ease in those moments than he’d felt in a very long time. Probably since the Glade, if he’s honest with himself.

Newt glanced towards him, eyes wide in concern. Another thing that set Newt apart from the others that came to see him was that Newt looked healthy and alive. Chuck, Ben, Teresa and Alby were all discoloured, covered in death wounds and with purple circles under their eyes. Newt, on the other hand, looked even more beautiful than he did in life.

“I’m here for you, Tommy.”

Thomas woke up screaming and Newt was there to comfort him, pulling him into a tight embrace and holding him close to his chest.

“Stop, stop, go away.” Thomas sobbed, fighting him off. “Leave me alone! You’re not real!”

“I’m not real, Tommy?” Newt asked, letting go and staring Thomas directly in the eye. “Don’t I feel real?”

Thomas let out another strangled sob and shook his head. “I’m just... I just have PTSD or something. My brain is making this up, remembering things that happened before and playing them differently.”

Newt leaned closer to him. “Then maybe we’ll just have to do something that we never did before.”

That’s when he kissed him, and the entire world seemed to explode around Thomas.

_Come on, come on and let me in_

The kissing never happened again, but never left Thomas’ mind. Somehow, he felt that it was punishing him. Newt never left again after that, he was always around.

The others stopped coming around as much, he barely saw Alby or Ben at all anymore. Teresa and Chuck popped in every few days, but spoke less and less. Soon enough, they were just silent presences whenever they felt like Thomas needed them the most. Which also became less and less.

He was falling into Newt, separating himself from the others and he could feel Minho’s disapproval, so he wasn’t surprised when the Asian confronted him one night before bed. He was surprised, however, when he nearly instantly began sobbing.

Minho was clearly surprised, too, but didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around the crying boy.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Minho shushed him, stroking his filthy hair. “What’s going on with you? What’s wrong?”

Thomas broke another promise then, a promise he made to himself.

“I killed Newt, Minho, I killed him and now he won’t go away _!”_ Thomas sobbed emptily, his body already drained of any emotion. Minho’s facial expressions changed quickly in a matter of a few seconds but he only held tighter to him.

“What do you mean he won’t go away? Do you see him right now?” Minho whispered. Thomas pulled his face away from Minho and glanced over the boys shoulder. Newt stood there, eyes full of tears, biting his lip.

“He won’t le-leave.” Thomas’ voice broke with a sob, and gripped tightly onto Minho’s shirt.

“I can’t leave, Tommy.” Newt said slowly, his voice ragged. “I’m here for you.”

“What does that even mean!?!” Thomas screamed, pulling away from Minho. He stared at his two best friends- one alive, one dead- and then ran.

He ran as fast as he could, but he should have known he couldn’t get away from Newt. Once he stopped running, completely out of breath, Newt was right in front of him again.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” Thomas screamed himself hoarse. “Go away!”

Newt shook his head slightly, tears staring to fall from his eyes. “I can’t… Tommy, I’m-“

“Don’t say it! Don’t even FUCKING SAY IT.” Thomas sobbed, dropping down to his knees and burring his face in the grass. “Go away, Newt. I hate you. I’ve always hated you!”

When Thomas looked up, Newt was gone.

_I never meant for you to fix yourself_

If Thomas had thought he was mentally unstable before with Newt constantly being around, it was nothing compared to the darkness that overwhelmed him once Newt was gone. Most days, he couldn’t even find the strength to get out of bed. The only thing that kept him from kissing life goodbye and jumping off the tallest cliff in Paradise was the constant presence of Chuck.

“You really hurt him, you know that?” Chuck said suddenly one day, and Thomas didn’t need to ask.

“I shot him in the head, Chuck. Yeah, I think I know that I hurt him.” Thomas scoffed.

Chuck rolled his eyes and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, shuck face, and you know it.”

“Kind of hard to hurt a dead guys’ feelings, Chucky old pal.” Thomas shook his head but his heart dropped. “Wait, have you been talking to him?”

Chuck shrugged. “Wouldn’t exactly call it talking, but yeah.”

“Is he coming back?” Thomas winced at the eager tone in his voice. Chuck smiled sadly and resorted back to silence.

The headaches came roughly a week after Newt disappeared, and they got to the point that he could barely move when they came around. The worse part was, he was stuck with Ben whenever they did. It didn’t even make sense to himself, and Thomas knew his brain was the one causing it to happen.

“It wouldn’t be me if you’d just make up with Newt.” Ben finally spoke up after the third or fourth headache, shaking his head slightly at the sight. Thomas merely clenched his teeth to keep from screaming out in pain.

“He loved you, Thomas.”

This time Thomas did scream, but it wasn’t from the headache.

Thomas refused to believe that Newt meant anything. He was just somebody Thomas had cared about once, somebody Thomas had lost.

Somebody Thomas had killed.

“Your negative thoughts are really getting on my nerves, Greenie.” Alby snapped. Thomas jumped, not having known that he’d been there.

“Stop calling me, Greenie. It’s probably been like, a year since I came into the Glade.” Thomas rolled his eyes. In reality, though, Thomas had no idea how long it had been. It could have been five years or it could have been six months. He really had no grasp of time.

“You’ll always be Greenie to me.” Alby rolled his eyes. “And a stupid one at that. You did the right thing, killing Newt. It was what was right and it was what he wanted.”

“I could have saved him.” Thomas argued, fighting the headache he felt coming on.

Alby got onto his knees and leaned close to his face. “No, you couldn’t’ve. You need to get that out of your shuck head right now, Thomas, I mean it. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“I should have tried harder…” Thomas whispered to himself, only to receive a punch in the shoulder from Alby.

The headache was constant now, Thomas walking around in a permanent daze of pain. He collapsed a few times and then Minho put him on bed rest indefinitely.

Teresa, Chuck, Alby and Ben were all gathered around his bed side, the opposite side of where Minho sat, asleep.

“If you want him here, all you have to do is ask.” Chuck said simply. “He’ll come back. He loves you.”

“Stop saying that, all of you.” Thomas shook his head. “He hated me, said so himself.”

Teresa shook her head. “He didn’t mean it, and I can’t believe you think he did. He knew that if he told you truth, you never would have killed him.”

“He said he’d have killed me if I didn’t kill him. Doesn’t sound like love to me.” Thomas scoffed with an eye roll.

“He never would have killed you Thomas. He couldn’t’ve.” Alby spoke up, leaving the ‘because he loved you’ hanging unsaid in the air around them.

“Okay let’s test this then! Newt, Newt, I need you.” Thomas called out for the boy through his daze of pain and confusion. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Or would it be worst? Thomas couldn’t even tell the difference anymore.

_You’re a cherry blossom, you’re about to bloom._

Newt never left his side again, but he didn’t talk either. He just sat on the edge of Thomas’ bed, occasionally reaching out the stroke the boys hand or run his fingers through his hair. There were no words exchanged between them, not one.

Finally, Thomas had had enough. He waited until he was sure that Minho was sleeping then turned to Newt’s figure. “Is it true?”

Newt’s eyes widened, seeming surprised that Thomas was speaking to him. “Is what true?”

“What they said… Chuck and the others. That you...” Thomas took a deep breath. “That you loved me.”

Newt didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Thomas nodded, strangely unsatisfied, and leaned back against the pillows. Before he could drift off to sleep, however, Newt was talking again.

“Did you meant it?”

“Mean what?”

Newt hesitated this time, drawing in a deep breath. “When you said you hated me.”

Thomas paused, truly thinking it over. “At the time. Did you mean it when you said it?”

“At the time.”

Thomas’ headache was getting worse if anything, and Newt soon became blurry. He became slightly more transparent and Thomas felt panic growing in his gut.

“I don’t want you to go.” He said one day when he could literally see right through him. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Tommy, I’m here for you.” Newt said, taking hold of Thomas’ hands and interloping her fingers. The worst part was that Thomas could hardly feel it at all now.

“What does that mean? Just tell me.”

Newt’s eyes filled with fear. “I can’t say anything more… I’m just, I’m here for you.”

“I didn’t need you to be here for me, I was stronger when you weren’t!” Thomas coughed, his entire body aching.

“It’s not like that, Tommy.” Newt said, slowly becoming clearer as Thomas focused his energy on the blond boy. Tears were slipping down his face and he looked so god damn sad that it broke Thomas’ heart.

Suddenly things began clicking into place and air wasn’t coming easily anymore.

“Wait. You’re here for me…” Thomas’ eyes widened and he squeezed Newt’s hand tighter. “Newt… Newt, am I dying?”

Painful sobs were the only reply he got.

Thomas didn’t have the heart to tell Minho, who was still working so hard to save his life. Alby explained everything to him, because Newt claimed that he couldn’t.

“The swipe in your brain had broken,” Alby said slowly. “It leaked a lot of chemicals into your brain, it’s a miracle that you’re still this healthy.”

Thomas certainly didn’t feel healthy, but he wasn’t going to argue. “So there’s nothing anybody can do?”

“No.” Newt and Alby said in unison. Alby continued. “We wouldn’t be here if there was chance you would survive. Your brains been poisoned, and it’s shutting down. It shouldn’t be long now, though, really.”

Thomas thought of their words and winced. “So, are you hallucinations? Are the chemicals in my brain making you appear?”

Thomas directed his question towards Alby, not wanting to make Newt anymore upset than he already was, but it was the blond boy who surprised him with an answer.

“Honestly? We don’t know.”

As they got closer to the end, Chuck stopped appearing.

“I think it’s too hard for him to see this.” Teresa said as she stroked his hand. “Hard on all of us, really.”

“How is Newt still here then?” Thomas asked, shaking his head. “I mean, if Chuck can’t even be here.”

Teresa looked up and met his eyes. “Newt wouldn’t be able to stay away if he tried.”

Once again, Thomas was left to wonder if they were real.

_You look so pretty but you’re gone so soon_

It happened on Tuesday, and it was the worst pain Thomas had ever experienced. Worse than the Changing, worse than getting shot. He was constantly coughing, blood spurting from his lips. Minho was crying, though he was trying to act like his wasn’t.

“Shuck, Thomas, shuck.” Minho shook his head, holding tightly to his hand. Thomas looked up towards Newt, who was seated on his bed. He raised his eyebrows, using them to ask the question he couldn’t with words while Minho was around.

Newt nodded and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Minho. Minho, it’s not your fault.” Thomas coughed, more blood coming up but ignored it. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Minho nodded, tears still falling from his eyes.

“Tell Newt... tell him.” Minho hiccupped, so overcome with emotion he couldn’t even finish off his sentence. Thomas smiled.

“W-whatever it i-is, he al-already knows. I-I- promise.” Then, with one last gut-wrenching cough, Thomas’ breathing faltered and then stopped completely.

He ended his new life laying down, surrounded by the sounds of sobs and with the image of Newt’s smile burned into his mind.

_You will remember me. Remember me for centuries._

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.


End file.
